If use any of my prompts ever, I'd really like you to mention my handle and a link to the original post!
I write about anything and everything, but right now I'm really into heroes and villains.
Any prompt requests are open. But, I won't go into the ones that are too specific.
CW: implied sexual content
“You can’t top me.” The villain said, frowning.
“Yeah, I can.” The hero spoke back.
“No, you can’t-,” The villain insisted, getting impatient.
“I can.” The hero narrowed his eyes challengingly.
The sidekick looked between them, confused. “Can you not talk about your sexual intercourse positions in front of me? Goodness!”
The hero raised his eyebrows, cracking up. The villain laughed as well, turning a bit red. He shook his head, “We’re talking about who will score the most highest in the game we play every night.”
The sidekick stood there, staring in shock.
“And anyway, we all know who tops.” The hero winked at the villain, and the villain turned full on shade of crimson. He glared at the hero, but the hero just gave an innocent smile.
❌Credit me if you use this❌
(Part 1…?)
“We used to be best friends,” The hero murmured, gazing out the window of their room. The moon shining so bright, they tore their eyes from it. The light shining through the glass, illuminating the whole place up. They sighed. “Perhaps, something more intimate that I refused to put a name on. We both refused to.”
“Dad, were you guys more than friends?” The hero’s child, a fourteen-year-old, asked them. Their eyes animated with wonder, their lips curved up a little. The hero chuckled, as they patted the teenager’s head.
“You should go to sleep now, hmm? It’s getting late.” The hero murmured, moving from the place they were standing and striding to where the other was sitting on the bed.
“Buttttttt, I have to know.” The fourteen-year-old whined, shaking their head as their parent picked them from the bed by their arm, in one sweep. “Where are they now? Do you know?” They asked again.
“No, I don’t know where he is right now, and nor do I wish to.” The hero said, eyes filling with suppressed sadness, their voice cracking. They tried to stay calm as memories of their college days came crushing in all at once, fogging their whole mind. Suddenly, they felt dizzy as they let go of the confused teenager’s arm, and sat down on the bed.
It was now or never. Every time they had this conversation, it would end with the hero staying silent the end, not wanting to bring up any reminders of the villain. They could not tell the younger one, that their best friend was none other than the most wanted criminal in the entire city. It would be too much, for both of them. Every time the assignment of finding the villain was assigned to him, they would always decline it. They couldn’t afford to meet the villain let alone, catch them. It would break them, unwillingly.
Yet, they couldn’t bury it all down again. Not when the kid was getting nothing but smarter every day, wiser. Mature. It felt wrong to hide their history any longer than they had been. So, they took a deep breath and let it all out. They told the fourteen-year-old everything that he had been wanting to, everything they didn’t tell anyone else, not even their ex-partner. Perhaps, that’s why when their partner felt that they weren't the one the hero was looking for, they decided to set them both free.
The teenager listened intently, asking their parent questions here and there. Frowning at various times, and laughing at others. It was a roller coaster of emotions, if you asked them.
“So…you still love them then?” They questioned, eyes brows raised.
The hero glanced away, wiping away the tears that unknowingly left out of their eyes, “I wish I could say no, but yes. Yes, I do love-," Before the hero could finish his sentence, there was a big thud from the kitchen. The teenager glanced at their dad, their eyes filled with surprise.
They both quickly but quietly made their way to the kitchen, the hero in the front, while their child trailed behind.
When they peeked out behind the wall of the kitchen, the hero's heart stopped. The villain stood there, appearing smug.
"Oh, shit. Is that a hickey on your neck?" The villain asked, eyes narrowing. He stepped closer, to take a more keen look. The hero blushed and nodded. The villain's eyes went wide, "Who-who gave you that?"
"You." The hero replied, his eyes filling with sadness. He took a deep breath. The villain's memory had gotten worse since the day he found out that the other had Alzheimer's. The doctors were hopeless because the villain was on stage 4 of the disease.
‘It can’t be helped anymore than the treatment that we have him on’, They had said. The hero had gotten mad, how could they lose hope when his villain was still this young? Couldn’t they do something about it rather than shaking their heads with pity plastered on their damn faces? The hero wanted to lash out, but, he couldn’t. He wouldn’t, not with the villain by his side, looking gloom.
"Me?" The villain frowned, and continued shortly, "But we haven't met since two days ago." The hero went close to him, his steps heavy and filled with anxiety. He raised his hand, and brought it to the villain's cheek. “My condition’s getting worse, isn’t it?” The villain murmured again, concern lacing his eyes. The hero shook his head.
“No, no. You’re right. We met two days ago, that’s when you gave me the hickey.” The hero whispered, kissing the villain. The villain kissed him back with tenderness. The hero broke the kiss, and saw the villain’s beautiful face now stained with too bitter of tears.
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The hero screamed in agony as the blood oozed out of his body, and into the pool of liquid beside him. His voice echoed in the empty vast sky, and then nothing. An anguished silence. And then, a thud. He fell on his back, the villain going out of his vision for a second.
As if on cue, or maybe it was just mocking him, it started raining. Heavy droplets made his eyes so heavy, he fought to open them. The villain stayed where he was, a knife dripping blood mixed with the rain, onto the wet ground. The hero's breathing slowed.
"Why." He choked, his body nearly tearing itself apart by the force it took to say that. He shivered, the coldness of the raindrops getting to him. He tried inhaling. His lungs hurt, and his heart more. The villain dropped to his knees, his eyes filling with tears. He bawled. The hero's ears rang with the noise.
"I love you, but...but I couldn't. I couldn't be better for you. Loving me comes with a price." The villain rasped, he dropped the knife and walked to the lying figure. His gaze crossed with the hero's as he continued, "This is the price." The hero's heart clenched. He had failed. Failed to change the villain. Failed to save him. Failed to save himself. Failed himself. He breathed out last time, before his body gave up.
(Not me listening to "Stalker's Tango" by Autoheart while writing this. The song goes perfectly with it though)
By @writingpromptsworld
“You’ll always be here to fight me, right?” The villain asks, pinning the hero to the wall, keeping an arm under their neck to keep them there firmly.
The hero grunted, leaning their head back to the rough bricks. They smirked slightly. “Why? Scared I’ll choose some other villain over you?”
“Shut up.” The villain said, pressing harder. The hero groaned, their hands moving to the villain’s waist.
They kept the smug grin on their face. “It’s okay, you can admit it. You like me, or dare I say, prefer me.”
And that was all it took for the villain to break. They leaned forward and smashed their lips with the hero’s, and the hero let out a laugh, pulling the villain closer.
(Part 1…?)
“We used to be best friends,” The hero murmured, gazing out the window of their room. The moon shining so bright, they tore their eyes from it. The light shining through the glass, illuminating the whole place up. They sighed. “Perhaps, something more intimate that I refused to put a name on. We both refused to.”
“Dad, were you guys more than friends?” The hero’s child, a fourteen-year-old, asked them. Their eyes animated with wonder, their lips curved up a little. The hero chuckled, as they patted the teenager’s head.
“You should go to sleep now, hmm? It’s getting late.” The hero murmured, moving from the place they were standing and striding to where the other was sitting on the bed.
“Buttttttt, I have to know.” The fourteen-year-old whined, shaking their head as their parent picked them from the bed by their arm, in one sweep. “Where are they now? Do you know?” They asked again.
“No, I don’t know where he is right now, and nor do I wish to.” The hero said, eyes filling with suppressed sadness, their voice cracking. They tried to stay calm as memories of their college days came crushing in all at once, fogging their whole mind. Suddenly, they felt dizzy as they let go of the confused teenager’s arm, and sat down on the bed.
It was now or never. Every time they had this conversation, it would end with the hero staying silent the end, not wanting to bring up any reminders of the villain. They could not tell the younger one, that their best friend was none other than the most wanted criminal in the entire city. It would be too much, for both of them. Every time the assignment of finding the villain was assigned to him, they would always decline it. They couldn’t afford to meet the villain let alone, catch them. It would break them, unwillingly.
Yet, they couldn’t bury it all down again. Not when the kid was getting nothing but smarter every day, wiser. Mature. It felt wrong to hide their history any longer than they had been. So, they took a deep breath and let it all out. They told the fourteen-year-old everything that he had been wanting to, everything they didn’t tell anyone else, not even their ex-partner. Perhaps, that’s why when their partner felt that they weren't the one the hero was looking for, they decided to set them both free.
The teenager listened intently, asking their parent questions here and there. Frowning at various times, and laughing at others. It was a roller coaster of emotions, if you asked them.
“So…you still love them then?” They questioned, eyes brows raised.
The hero glanced away, wiping away the tears that unknowingly left out of their eyes, “I wish I could say no, but yes. Yes, I do love-," Before the hero could finish his sentence, there was a big thud from the kitchen. The teenager glanced at their dad, their eyes filled with surprise.
They both quickly but quietly made their way to the kitchen, the hero in the front, while their child trailed behind.
When they peeked out behind the wall of the kitchen, the hero's heart stopped. The villain stood there, appearing smug.
“I have nyctophilia.” The villain stated, strolling away into his huge apartment. The hero raised an eyebrow, staying where he was. He couldn’t see a damn thing, aside from the outlines of the couches and the villain standing in front of him.
“What does that mean?” The hero wondered, his eyes roaming around, trying to adjust to the midnight glow.
“It means that I find comfort in the darkness. A kind of peace.” The villain explained, his back turned to the hero.
“Oh, well. Can you turn on the lights for now? I can barely see anything.” The hero mumbled, quietly. It felt so intimate to be standing here with the villain, lights turned off, in the avid blackness. Exquisitely, almost.
“Why? You don’t like it?” The villain retorted, half-chuckling. He turned around and faltered to where the hero was.
The hero scoffed, “No. I’m not you, after all.” The villain came to a halt about an inch away from him, and his breathing quickened.
“You don’t have to be me to enjoy the dark, we all have it inside us. We just refuse to accept it, darling.” The villain whispered, his voice deep. Honey-like, the hero thought. Soothing, yet shriveling. He shuddered.
“Don’t call me that. I have a girlfriend.” The hero hissed. That was a lie, he knew. But, he refused to give in to the other man’s flirting. He was on a mission, for god’s sake. Why couldn’t the villain be serious for once?
The villain snorted, “Sure, you do.” He went away to turn on the switch, but stumbled on one of the couches that was placed on the left, lost his balance and fell down facing the floor.
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The villain shuddered as he walked to the aching body on the ground. The hero. He felt a shudder run down his spine. The hero was lying on the ground, blood smeared across his face and hands.
The villain came forward, and bend down. His heart throbbed against his chest, at an unreal speed. His mouth felt dry as he swallowed. His stomach warped itself in. The hero wrestled to get up on his elbows.
“Y-you…you have to go, okay? T-they are c-coming for you.” The hero choked, barely making out the words. He fell back to the ground. Crushed. The villain shook his head rapidly, panic clawing through his body.
“No!” He cried. “NO! I can’t leave you here, not like this! No!”
“Please. You…got to go. They-” The hero struggled to try to catch his breath, as his words caught in his throat.
“No, I can’t. I can’t! I can’t! I-” The villain felt his eyes prickling with salty tears. He wasn’t one to cry, but god did he feel like his world was crumbling with the passing seconds. His hero. His world.
“Please! Listen-listen…to me this, once. Please, go!” The hero bit out, but all the villain could do was hold the hero in his arms, while sobbing, until they both exhaled their last breaths.
❌Please credit me if you use this in your writing ❌
Just in case you’re new, or don’t really understand how this entire site functions (and it’s completely different from other social media apps, at least for now*), or if you wanted an illustration of why it’s so important to reblog the posts you enjoy and the hard work of creators you want to support, here’s a visualisation of the impact and reach of reblogging, using my biggest post (part one of my writing masterlist).
Creators are losing the will to post and share in droves because engagement is becoming next to non-existent, and if you don’t reblog the things you enjoy for free, creators wonder why they even bother, and soon they’ll just… stop.
(Look at that reblog to like ratio too… oof)
My little blog is at the centre of that dense circle, and every point in the image represents a reblog.
Of the people who reblogged the original post, most of them did so directly from me, but you can see scattered groups of reblogs which came from people who reblogged it from those who did so from me. And so on and so on, out into the ecosystem.
If you came across my masterlist in the wild, and didn’t or don’t follow me, you only saw it because someone reblogged it.
Most of the things you see on your dash are only there because someone you follow reblogged it.
It’s how this whole ecosystem works, and you’re smothering and killing it if you don’t reblog the ‘content’ you ‘consume’ (I dislike using those terms, but it is what it is).
To clarify, no one is saying you should feel obliged to reblog everything you come across, or that everything an artist or creator puts out there ‘deserves’ to be reblogged, but for pity’s sake, reblog the things you do actively enjoy.
Leaving a like or a comment on the post is like giving a compliment directly to the creator, and it’s wonderful, but it doesn’t show that post to anyone else or boost its presence on the platform. It can also give the impression you didn’t like it ‘enough’ or it wasn’t ‘good enough’ to bother putting on your blog or reblogging. How you really show your appreciation for something you genuinely enjoyed is by reblogging. (Even better if you screech away in the tags about why you liked it, but that’s an optional extra!) It’s like giving a meaningful and impactful tip, except it’s completely free, and it only costs you the time it takes to click or tap.
I hope that clears things up, and is a useful illustration of the impact you’ve had on creators’ pages by reblogging their work, so a huge thank you to those who represent points on that chart, and those of other creators on here! It’s because of people like you that work of people like me gets seen and enjoyed by more people!!
*(I know Tumblr is trying to change things so that you see other things now, instead of only the people you follow, but you can and should turn that feature off).
CW: implied sexual content
"She was checking you out." The hero pressed his body flush against the villain's. The villain bit his lip and then licked it. The hero followed the movement with his eyes.
"I-...are you jealous?" The villain asked, swallowing. This felt thrilling, but surely dangerous with the way the hero wouldn't let him go the moment that girl left them alone. The backstreet was grave, with nothing but the loud music coming from the club that was placed behind it.
"So what if I am? You're mine, no one's allowed to look at you that way but me." The hero growled, and it went straight to the villain's...let's just say his body reacted in a way that the hero must've felt. "Oh, this is turning you on, is it. You like it when I'm possessive, don't you?" His body rubbed against the villain's, and the villain let out a low groan that was something close to an illicit sound. The hero smirked, and the villain knew they were going to be up all night.
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A writer in a slump. Requests are open. | If you use any of my prompts, I’d like you to tag me. Main blog: @me-writes-prompts
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